The Irrelevance of Distance
by windxalchemist
Summary: Nothing about them ever had much to do with proximity anyways. An IchiRuki Collection of OneshotsDrabbles. Ch 6: Make sure you get the bendy straws, Ichigo!
1. Reincarnation

Reincarnation: Rewrite

I feel like I'm fucking around with quantam physics and common sense a little TOO much. XD I hope this doesn't transcend all sanity.

DISCLAIMER: I obviously DO own this writing. I DON'T, however, own KT's characters. If I did, I think this would all be canon, not fanfiction, ne[;

The triple dash [--- means a clean break in the story.

And the single dash [- means that it was supposed to be a double space but, the website is kind of stupid at formatting a lot of the times, so I couldn't do a double space.

---

They say that death meant a new chance at life.

Kuchiki Rukia knew that statement was true.

---

"Kuchiki Rukia, yes?" a sharp voice called out from the darkness.

"Ah…yes," she hesitantly replied.

Suddenly a wave of invisible lights illuminated everything. She blinked, holding her hand up to shield her eyes. In front of her sat a short, dumpy man in robes of standard black, as all shinigami wore. She saw a blank white room, in stark contrast to her uniform; the color seemed too pure. Where was this place? Rukia could only stare in wonder at the peculiarity of a lone desk and door in the whole expanse of white.

"Ah, excuse me. Where is this place-"

"Kuchiki Rukia, born on the fourteenth of January, of the year 1814. Was the vice captain of the 13th Squad of the Gotei 13. This is indeed you, correct?"

"Yes, but what I was asking was-"

"You are dead. Your soul is to be recycled to the living world once more through your reincarnation cycle," the man said, cutting her curiosity short.

She blinked in surprise. Dead? The last thing she could remember was screaming at the top of her lungs at Ichigo about something.

"Ichigo," she whispered.

"I'm sorry?" the balding spirit paused in his monologue at her interruption.

"Oh, nothing."

The fact of her nonexistence didn't quite settle in.

"So, as I was saying, is there any specific city that you wished to be born in?" the annoyed look on his face dissolved.

"Ah. I don't really-actually," she paused briefly.

_Home is where the heart is._

She smiled.

"Could you try to take me near Karakura City, please?"

The soul nodded, writing down her request.

"We'll try our best."

"Ah. I see. Then…I guess."

"I guess this is it," the man prompted.

When had this conversation been nullified into something so insignificant? To this man, she was just one of the many souls to pass through this cycle everyday. Why should it matter to him? The rest of his eternity was probably going to be spent here at this desk, signing reports passing a soul on into a new life. What could he possibly understand about giving up on this life?

She sighed a heaving sigh, as tears began to prick her eyes.

The soul led her to the pure white door with the silver handle, where a young man stood. He looked rather nervous.

"Is this your first time on the job?" she asked; she would be cheerful until the end.

"Oh, ah..yes," the boy nervously mumbled.

"Well, I hope you'll get me to the right place," Rukia kindly offered as a joke. Only it looked as though she'd frightened him even more.

"So do I," he agreed.

She patiently waited by the door. Her vision blurred, as the tears invaded the sensitive skin of her eyes. The best way she could cope with the prolonging of this life was to clench her fists and stare off into the distance. She shut her eyes in regret as she heard an alarm signaling her demise.

"Well then, I guess it's goodbye," said the young man.

She tried to remain composed as she turned the silver handle; the freezing metal burned to the touch.

"Goodbye…"

She took the first step through the threshold.

"…Ichigo."

With that she prepared to let go of all of this life which she'd lived the best she could.

And she did live the best way that she knew how.

Because of him.

Ichigo.

"Thank you."

And then there was darkness.

-

"No, IDIOT! You didn't reset her physical traits at all! And the time that you sent her to! It's not right at all! I can't believe you did this to-"

-

The silence soon followed.

---

It was a quiet day in Karakura.

Nothing was happening.

Because well, nothing ever _did _happen in Karakura.

-

She was Kuchiki Rukia.

Age: 16. Height: 144cm. Occupation: 10th grader at Karakura High. DOB: January 14

-

In other words, a normal high school student.

She'd prefer if it she weren't.

She was born to normal parents, at the main hospital in Karakura Town. There wasn't anything particularly special about her. She got good grades, kept out of trouble, she didn't feel like she had life debilitating physical disproportions as did half of the human population.

Her life left very little to be desired. Yet, she felt as though there were something huge missing from it. Everything in that town was familiar, as it had been for the past 16 years. The steps of her everyday life were retraced over and over again everyday. Each day ran like a well oiled clock. Nothing ever escaped her destined path of never ending cycles. She was merely one of the cogs in the intricate design of a clock; every action predetermined, every move was out of her control. Where she was in control, she didn't know.

"Kuchiki-san!"

She whirled around in surprise.

"Ah…Inoue."

She watched the said red haired beauty run over to her.

"Kuchiki-san, do you always walk this way?"

Rukia nodded slowly.

"Oh, then…I guess that we should walk together more often," Inoue offered with a smile.

She smiled back.

"Yes, I guess we should."

She slowed her normally fast pace to match Inoue's slower one. There was a tall bridge she crossed over before the school came into sight. There were wildflowers blooming happily near the riverbank and the water bubbled animatedly. This place, she'd crossed by this place for everyday of her life since she started elementary school. Yet, today it felt so strangely familiar. Almost like déjà vu.

"Kurosaki-kun!"

Inoue's sudden outcry interrupted her train of thought. She looked up to see a ginger haired boy. Kurosaki? Ah, yes. That boy in her class; he sat next to her. She'd never paid much attention to him.

"Ah…Inoue." The boy gave a nonchalant wave.

Then his eyes fell upon her; they immediately widened. There was an unexplainable glint of…pain? in his amber eyes.

"Kuro…saki-kun?" she hesitantly said. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," he absently replied.

His eyes lingered on her face once more, and their gazes collided, amber to blue. This time it was her eyes that widened at his. Behind the pools of amber was such intensity and passion. She couldn't help but stare back.

Minutes passed like an eternity, and he never, even once, blinked.

She felt an irrationally wide smile starting to itch at the corners of her lips. There was a certain familiarity with this boy that she couldn't explain. Why did she feel like she was meeting a long lost, forgotten friend for the first time in ages? Didn't she just meet him a few minutes ago? Where was this inexorable joy at meeting him coming from?

"Ah…we must get going, Kurosaki-kun," she said, breaking their gaze.

Somehow Kurosaki-kun didn't feel quite right on her tongue. It was more than a mouthful. Was this person someone she had always distanced herself so much from?

"Right. I'll see you around, Inoue," he answered , still looking at Rukia, before turning around.

The pain never left his eyes.

She blinked a few times, then turned to the girl next to her.

"Is he always that strange?"

Inoue shook her head. "No. I don't think he is."

Rukia didn't miss the look of distress in her eyes either.

"Have I always called him Kurosaki-kun?" she asked.

"I'm not quite sure, Kuchiki-san."

Neither was she.

And the very same Kurosaki-kun didn't show up to class twenty minutes later.

But he did show up to class an hour late.

"Where've you been, Kurosaki?" the teacher berated him, wacking a book over his head.

"Sorry, Oochi-sensei," came his reply.

"You can borrow Kuchiki's history notes," Oochi-sensei sharply said in a tone that left no room for arguing.

Their eyes met again.

"Keep this up, Kurosaki, and graduation isn't happening for you."

The boy swallowed. "Err..yes, ma'am."

Rukia began to shuffle through her papers for the history notes.

"Here, Ichig-" she paused awkwardly, looking up at his face. There was a gleam of hope amidst the amber. "I mean, Ku…rosaki…kun."

The disappointment was clear as he tore away his eyes.

---

Rukia was ready to go home.

No more of this Kurosaki-kun business. What did that boy matter to her anyways? She huffed in disdain at the subject of her mind's preoccupation. The dark haired girl loudly pushed her chair in before walking out of the classroom to change her shoes. She shoved the white slippers into her locker, dropping her other brown soles onto the ground. She wiggled her toes into the leather and began to walk through the double doors of the school.

Outside, the sun was starting to point more towards the west than it was east. The sky was more pink that it was blue. In fact, the sky was turning a rather standoffish shade of orange. Her mind reverted back to its previous thoughts.

Seeing that color, she immediately frowned, giving a frustrated outcry.

"Damn it!" she swore, ill-tempered, and chucked her jacket aimlessly.

It went aimlessly flying across the railing of the bridge, and as instinct often has one do, she found herself recklessly lunging for the grey material. She had grasped onto the jacket, but was falling a free fall over the rails.

She clenched her eyes closed as she prepared for the fall. Then, as she felt a pair of strong hands on her shoulders, theywidened in alarm.

"Whoa, are you okay?"

"Ah..yeah. Thanks."

Rukia looked up to see who her savior was.

It was him.

"Ichig- I mean Kuros-"

"Kurosaki Ichigo." He extended out his right hand.

She gave him an uncertain glance, before reaching out with her own right hand.

"Kuchiki Rukia," she echoed.

Their hands connected, his bigger, calloused one over her own tiny digits.

And so did they.

Everything came flooding back. Soul Society. Hueco Mendo. Las Noches. Aizen. Winter War. Arrancar. Nii-sama. Ukitake-taichou. The Soukyoku. Renji. Rukongai. Kaien-dono. Hollows. Vaizard. The Gotei 13. Zangetsu. Shirayuki.

Ichigo.

_The day that they'd first met._

"Ichigo!" her vision began to blur with the tears.

"Yo," he greeted with a relieved grin.

"Yo yourself, idiot!" she screamed at him sadly; tears were running amok. Her fists were strangling her uniform jacket.

He opened his mouth as if to speak, then he closed it.

He merely smiled.

And she'd never seen his eyes look at her so tenderly.

"Don't I get to meet your parents?"

Her punch froze midway, and she nodded.

They took the long way home that day.

---

Ultimately, the goal of that story was to break the cycle that these two complained about in the pilot chapters of this story. Honestly, I think I'll regret the crapiness of this piece in a few days. XD

I hope that if you review this story that you'll leave more than just a "OMFG. I lurve it. The IchiRuki lurrve is cute! Keep going!" Don't get me wrong, I love reviews. I just hope that you could use the opportunity to tell me what you liked, what you didn't like, and how I could improve as a writer. Of course, if you don't wish to. Then I'm not the one to tell you what you can and can't do. I would just be very pleased if someone would concrit.

Thank you so much for reading!

**_12.o1.o7 - _P.S. **I've been getting reviews on the fact that I should put more chapters to this story, but I'd like to notify everyone who reads this story that this a is a series of oneshots/drabbles, and maybe some linked chapters. This is a oneshot of many. I hope this doesn't take away from the quality of the work.


	2. Is That the Man in the Mirror I See?

IchiRuki Contest Entry No.1

Hello all, this is Windy coming right at you. :D  
I wrote these down in a three part fic, but they aren't in any order, so, I'm going to make this entry no. 1.  
This is for the IchiRuki Fall Annual Contest that I'm entering. I don't know how adequate these will be, but thank you for taking the time to read through this entry.

Title: Mirror Mirror on the Wall  
by: **windxalchemist**

Word Count: 3,080  
Rating: K+10 [Swearing as per usual

Entry No.1

Is that the man in the mirror that I see?  
---

They returned from Soul Society very tired; almost exhausted enough to climb into their respective beds without even bothering to bathe. And they would have.

After all, they were almost tired enough to do just that.

Almost.

If that single thought in his mind would just stop eating away at his brain.

Ichigo wasn't jealous.

Nosiree.

He ran his hand through his unruly, tangerine locks, scratching the back of his head – a nervous habit of his. Even in Soul Society, he had wondered if he should bring it up. How could he? He had no right to tread upon the scarred crevices of her heart, not with his bloodstained hands and dirty feet.

"So, Rukia, I was wondering," he started to say.

_Too casual._

"Listen, Rukia. I DEMAND to know what happened with you and your old vice captain!" he spat in anger.

_Too forceful._

"Hey, uh, Rukia. I was, kinda wondering. About…something that I, uh, heard?"

_Too many pauses._

He huffed in disdain, running his fingers through his hair once more, before he ran through another imaginary conversation.

"Rukia, I was thinking about something," he paused, contemplating. When suddenly, he heard a nonchalant, "About what, Ichigo?"

He jumped, nearly falling out of his seat.

"About what, Ichigo?" Rukia reiterated.

When the initial shock had worn off, he allowed his habitual scowl to work its way back onto his brow.

"Nothing," he grumbled, making sure to remain seated.

She arched a perfect, black brow questioningly, as if not believing a word of the bullshit that had just oozed from his lips.

His scowl deepened. "Really," he tried to reassure her as she stepped back into her gigai.

He leaned back against his chair, watching her as she stretched, back arching tantalizingly; he could hear the bones cracking from days' worth of disregard. She threw another disbelieving glance, before launching herself at the bed, thoroughly exhausted. First **s**he blinked away the pain of the harsh ceiling lights on her sleepy eyes, and then her breathing slowed into a steady, even pattern. Her eyes watched him, silently coaxing him to speak his mind. He found himself staring back; amber to those deep violet-blue irises that he had come to know so well.

After a long while she broke the silence with a soft, "Hey."

He gave a half-hearted sort of smile, saying, "Hey," back to the woman in front of him.

"What is it?" she asked, still gently urging him to speak.

"I can't say," he answered, his frown reappearing at the thoughts previous to his distraction.

A smile made its way across her delicate features. She gave a graceful, tinkle of a laugh. She couldn't possibly think of what his next words could be, and if he asked her, she'd be hurt. He didn't want that; it was the last thing that he wanted to do.

"Why not?" she questioned, still lightly smiling.

He couldn't bear to tear her smile away from that pretty face. He didn't have the heart to, nor did he wish to trail his filth into her heart.

"Because, you haven't told me yourself. You aren't ready to talk about it yet. So, I'll wait. I'll wait until you want me to listen," he quietly said, bringing back to Rukia her very own words from those many years ago.

The smile slowly ebbed away, and the mood of her eyes drastically changed.

"What's this about, Ichigo?" she queried slowly, warily.

The curiosity inside of him threatened to spill over at any second. He couldn't stand not knowing how she felt about this man. How his resemblance to him affected her, how it affected him. How maybe the only reason that she was here now was because she was in love with the image of that man.

He was afraid** – **terrified really** – **and he would have laughed at himself, had the situation not been so dire. Wasn't he one who had slain thousands of hollows in his lifetime? Did he not battle shinigami captains with nothing more than his own two hands and his blade? Hadn't he survived through a war, combating with the most powerful of monsters to ever be brought into creation? Yet, here he was, cowering in the light of a lone shinigami. He truly was frightened.

Somewhere between their childish fights and their stupid arguments, he grew to cherish her, possibly with all his heart, but what if she had only stuck around with him because of whom he looked like?It was like a child buying a book because of the beautiful cover on the outside. That child would never read that book, but would keep it in their possession merely for the sake of its cover.

Would she be like that child? Had their years spent together been a wistful, artificial reproduction of something that she had had with this Kaien man? Ichigo had, _did_, love her, with his entirety, but what of her? He didn't want to even want to begin to consider any of it, but he couldn't help but remember what Ukitake-san had said.

--

"_Rukia. She…admired Kaien."_

"_Did she love him?" he had asked, trying to keep his composure._

"_That, I don't believe that I have the right to say, but she held him dear to her heart."_

"_Is that why she…?" he implied the very center of his fears, unable to finish his sentence._

_The white haired man's brows arched in surprise before a quick, "No, Kurosaki-san! It's not like that at all. Kuchiki would never."_

_--_

But the damage had already been done as soon as the man had rushed his reassurance. It had come crashing down on him.

He started fidgeting with his hands. Then he stopped, fingers folding into a fist at his knees. He averted his eyes away from the lamp that he had vainly attempted to pierce a hole through, and looked straight at her.

"Can you tell me about…Shiba Kaien?" he hesitantly asked.

There was no response. She just stared at him, dumbfounded, fear was surging into her irises.

"Ichi...go. I, How did you…?"

As hard as it was, he continued to look her in the eye.

"I – just want to know, your story," he requested.

When she truly was at a loss for words he quickly added, "No, well. If you don't want to, then I understand! It's just-"

She cut him off. She seemed to have resigned herself to telling him the truth.

"Shiba Kaien was…a great man. He was the vice-captain of the 13th Squad."

He listened intently as his own Armageddon was being spouted from her mouth. He forced his ears to stay focused on her voice, while staring at the floor.

"He treated me as an equal, not favoring me merely because of my Noble status. And I felt…alive, for the first time in such a long time. I…admired him greatly, as I did his wife. She was my idol." Rukia paused, "I wanted to be just like her."

Wife?

The man had a wife?

"_I wanted to be just like her."_

She wanted to be married to this Kaien guy. Is that how much she ….?

He watched the sadness on her face, an age-old sort of vulnerability scattering into her beautiful eyes. He suddenly started to regret ever asking her. No, it was selfish to ask. He should have been happy with what she was, what she had already given him.

"Rukia, I-"

"I killed Kaien-dono. With my own two hands." She gave him a look, and she let a sad smile trace her thin lips. "Lady Miyako and her search squad were killed by a hollow. Kaien-dono, he became so enraged that he foolishly tried to kill it by himself. I tried to help, but Ukitake taichou…

"He said that there are two types of battles: the fight for your life, and the fight for your pride. He then asked me, if I'd stepped into that fight, what would become of his pride? What kind of trivial matter is pride when compared to your life? Still, the captain stopped me. And everything…it went so horribly wrong. Why didn't I stop him? Why couldn't I yell out to him to stop acting foolishly?

"Kaien-dono became possessed by the hollow, and…that person. It was no longer Kaien-dono. Still, I couldn't…bear to look at him. That first time that he looked at me…I, I'm such a coward, Ichigo."

Yes. He definitely regretted asking her now. It was selfish to ask her. He should have been happy, content with her presence with him.

"So, I ran away. Like a coward, I ran away. But running away, I though, how will I feel about this in the future. So, I ran back to him, to Kaien-dono. There, Ukitake Taichou…he ordered me to kill…Kaien-dono. He assured me, that that thing was no longer him, and that Kaien-dono must be saved. I let him die, I killed him; impaled him on my blade. I killed him because I couldn't bear to look at him.

"And you know what he said to me as he died?"

It was rhetorical. She was no longer with him. She had that far away look in her eyes. He wanted to comfort her, to bring her back to reality, but hadn't he been the one to cause the pain? Just what kind of twisted monster would he be do that to her?

"He said, 'Thank you, Kuchiki, thanks to you…I can leave my heart here with you.' He thanked me…when I did nothing to receive thanks. I ran because I was afraid to see his marred face, then I came back because I was scared of facing that cowardice in the future. I killed him because I couldn't bear to see him in pain.

"So, in the end, I only ended up saving myself…and yet, as he left, he died, thanking me."

She was still stuck in her own reality, unable to escape.

"Rukia…"

She looked back at him, as if suddenly remembering that he was there, watching her give her secrets up to him. He couldn't stand to look at her; he couldn't stand to see how vulnerable she appeared. He couldn't bear how ridiculously insensitive he was. He had caused her this pain, yet, he still wanted to know. He still had the desire to know just how important this Kaien was to Rukia. He couldn't look at her, so he concentrated on his hands instead; his knuckles had tightened to a ghostly white.

"But…that's in the past. You shouldn't concern yourself over something like that, it was my-"

"Did you love him?" he blurted out.

He hadn't meant to go this far. He wasn't allowed to hurt her this much. He wasn't allowed to. Someone needed to stop him, right now. If he didn't stop right now, the monster inside of him would rampage on.

"What?"

There was that silence once more. That rawness of hesitation in itself served as a sufficient answer. He clenched his fists even tighter, nails digging into his palms. He stared at the ground, unable to look into her eyes as the ultimatum was released upon him.

"Did you love him?" he asked once more, voice low.

She hesitated. Why was it so hard? He was dead; Shiba Kaien was dead, damn it all! Was he really only fit for competition with someone who had perished so very long ago? It wasn't even a competition, really. What couldn't he offer that that stupid Shiba Kaien could?

"I think…I did," she quietly said.

His jaw tightened.

He could feel it now, the jealousy.

It wasn't slight either. It had suddenly unmasked itself and its ugly rear into his face. It seared through his bones, his mind, through his soul, his very essence; like a poison seeping through his veins, it grabbed hold of him. He really was ridiculous wasn't he? It wasn't as if Rukia was "his", and yet he was jealous of this man who ceased to exist any longer. This, this Shiba Kaien had single-handedly delivered him his downfall, and he didn't even have to try. Just his memory was enough to bring him down to his knees.

He fidgeted once more. He could feel her gaze upon him, but she wasn't angered. Itwas more like acalm gaze, pensive even. He didn't want for it to be true. He didn't want to believe that she didn't hold him as dear as he did her. He half expected her to kick him in the shins, asking why he was being so fucking melodramatic; that he shouldn't try to reenact those soap operas that she watches, because he sucks at it.

He wanted to scream at her, yell in her face; ask her how she could be so calm telling him about this when he could feel himself falling apart at the seams. He wanted nothing more than to continue to selfishly injure her, because that's how much hurt she was inflicting upon him right now. He wanted to grab her shoulders; bruise her; ask her how she could possibly love anyone before he'd had his chance. How?! When he had loved her so madly, so deeply, so shamelessly.

But he didn't.

"Is it true…that I look like him?" he asked, voice trembling, nearly cracking.

She sat up, her eyes lighting up with understanding.

"Ichigo, it's not-"

He closed his eyes on an inhale, trying to swallow that lump lodged in his throat, and then he opened them again on an exhale.

"Just answer the question." His voice sounded more forceful than he had intended for it to.

Rukia bit at her lip, teeth pinching the thin red skin.

"Yes. It's true that you do…resemble Kaien-dono very much, Ichigo, but you aren't-"

He stood up, the legs of his chair scraping against the wooden floor. He couldn't take it anymore. He wanted the truth, right? If he'd wanted it so badly, why did it hurt him so God damned much to accept it? Hadn't he been the very one to dig his own grave plot? He could have happily gone on with his life, but he chose to bring this upon himself.

Her eyes widened in surprise, before she blinked, standing up with him.

"Ichigo, it's…"

He inhaled, holding in his breath. He could have sworn that his knees were a short millisecond away from collapsing, his brain was telling him to back out right now, that he didn't have to torture himself like this. So what if Rukia did love this Shiba Kaien guy? She was with him now, wasn't she? He could live with that, couldn't he?

Ichigo bared his teeth and clenched his eyes shut, before asking the final question that would surely leave him broken.

"When you look at me, do you see me: Kurosaki Ichigo, or him: Shiba Kaien?"

He forced the words from his mouth. He was sure of it that his knees were about to give away from the pressure, and there was his last dinner from Soul Society persistently riding its way back up his digestive track. He expected her to hesitate once again, and murmur an apology, before walking out of the room, and he would fall to the ground in his pile of self-woe and rejection.

When Rukia gave no response he opened an eye in anticipation. To his surprise, she just stood there. Her teeth were clamped together, but mostly, there were unshed tears in her eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment.

"Rukia…"

She slapped him.

No, correction, she slapped him very, very hard.

He stared at her with widened eyesBlood was starting to form a nice purple bruise on his cheek as a future keepsake to this moment.

"How could you question me?!" she all but screamed; the tears making tracks along her face. "My actions? My emotions! All those years that we spent together! Everything! Did...did all that mean nothing to you?!"

He let his eyes soften with her reaction, as relief washed over him. His scowl involuntarily loosened itself on his brow, as he felt a half smile grant itself presence on his lips.

"You are absolutely the most thoughtless, irrational, idiotic - _ass_ to ever walk this earth!" She continued to berate him, a goddess in all her fury.

"How could you disillusion yourself into something so stupid?" she whispered suddenly.

He looked back up at her sincere expression, and he found his fears being swept away little by little.

"Kaien-dono is Kaien-dono, and you are you," she said softly, body a mere few inches away from his own. "I'm here, with you, because you're you. Because you are Kurosaki Ichigo."

Between the jumble of events of him gazing at her indigo irises, stunned, and her smiling back, he cupped her face and leaned into her mouth. He held the back of her head in his hand, pressing her closer to him. Through the lashes of his half-lidded eyes, he could see her face as well. He saw that her eyes were closed, lips responding to his own insistence.

In another twinge of doubt, he slowly pulled away, noses subtly brushing. His hands released their hold on her pale face, hanging awkwardly in midair. He let his eyes dart to his bed sheets, pupils tracing the grey pattern-less cotton.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw her hardened glare scrutinizing him once more, asking how he could continually have so little faith. He parted his lips in an effort to defend himself, to try and explain to her that he loved her, that he didn't want to lose her to a mere memory, that he truly wanted her to be with him and him only.

But instead, he was interrupted by a roll of her eyes, followed by the sound of an irritated growl erupting from her throat. He felt her slender fingers entangle themselves in his hair, fisting at the bright locks as she forcefully crushed her mouth against his own in a debilitating kiss. His eyes widened to the size of saucers, before he let them drift closed, revolving into the back of his head

As they kissed, he finally understood that his Armageddon was just a self-fabricated illusion; his own personal apocalypse was never waiting for him at the end of their dreaded conversation.

The words were never necessary to express what he felt for her.

And maybe, he had always subconsciously known that she too, loved him back.

----  
Thank you for taking the time to read through part one of my story:D

I look forward to seeing what people think of it!

Also. There seemed to be a lot of confusion about my previous chapter. These are just a collection of one shots and drabbles and such. They're not a big WIP. I hope everyone understands. :


	3. Happiness Now

Title: Happiness Now  
By: **windxalchemist**  
Word Count: 1, 294  
Rating: K+  
Category: Fanfiction

This is part two of my three part fic that I am entering into the IchiRuki Comm Annual Contest.

Entry No. 2 Would you approve?  
---

Today was the day.

The day that she had killed him.

Kaien-dono.

It wasn't raining today.

But it should have.

Then maybe she could force herself to be in the mood that she was supposed to be in on this day; she could feel guilty and punish herself. Then she would force herself to feel the guilt still sustaining itself inside of her, and she would never allow herself to forget. Remembrance would be her eternal punishment laid down by the gods; a punishment that she would gladly accept a hundred times over.

On this day, she always visited the place where it had happened. She stopped crying long ago, for she learned that no amount of tears would ever bring him back. No amount of tears, blood, sweat, or pain could ever bring back Kaien-dono. She knew** – **she had tried, waiting there in that spot for him to come out into the clearing and ask her what the hell she was doing next to a hollow's lair, and that she needs to wipe that shitty look off of her face.

Rukia would never allow herself to forget, but she had already learned to live with this pain. It had become rather second nature now. Yet on this day, she couldn't bear to tear herself away from his memory** – **their memories** – **and that day.

That always seemed to reopen the old wounds, rubbing them with a salt that was all too potent.

She sighed, trying to pay attention to the meeting at hand. It wasn't very important at all really. It consisted of Yamamoto talking, and the other members pretending to listen. She didn't understand why she had to come along as well. She was stationed in the living world, ordered to terminate any lingering arrancar that may have survived in the aftermath of the war.

"Oi, are you okay?" a hushed voice broke through her train of thought.

She blinked, refocusing her vision on the boy next to her. "Yes. Why? Don't I seem okay?"

He frowned; the fact that he was injured by her callous retort was as plain as day written all over his face. "Pfft, whatever then. See if I care when the old man decides to ask you something and you're away spacing out on the tenth cloud," he muttered.

She glared knives at the side of his face, but he appeared not to have noticed. He was in a posture that suggested that he was listening to the meeting.

"Bastard," she hissed.

He murmured, "Bitch," out of the corner of his mouth, not looking away from the General.

"Shut up, dumbass," she ordered irritably, eyes narrowing.

"Oh, why I oughta-"

The two of them were interrupted by a loud cough from Yamamoto himself.

"Kurosaki, Kuchiki, is there something that you'd like to share with the rest of us?"

The both jolted, before sitting up rigidly straight once more.

"No, sir." She was the first to answer. "Right, Ichigo?" she asked through gritted teeth, jutting him painfully in the ribs with a pointed elbow.

He gave an involuntary jerk and shot another fixed stare at her before nodding in agreement. "No, sir."

The man gave them one last disapproving glare, turning back to speak once more"And so, we must be on the constant look out for any of…"

She watched in mild amusement as Ichigo's brows furrowed more deeply together. Subtly tapping his foot with her ownearned her a sideways glance. He was glowering. She smiled innocently, giving a flutter or two of her long lashes. The expression on his fac**e s**uggested that he was dealing with a severe case of food poisoning. She paid no mind, merely sticking her tongue out at him. He arched his brows questioningly at her childish behavior, before his lips settled into a comfortable smile.

And she found herself smiling back at the slight crinkle of his eyes.

Yes, this was why she couldn't punish herself properly. Whenever the boy was next to her, she felt inexplicable happiness, but today wasn't her day to feel happiness. She wasn't allowed to, was she? Would _he_ have wanted her to be happy?

'_Would you, Kaien-dono?_'

She didn't know, but she knew, as selfish as it was, that she wished to be happy. If being with him made her so, then she decided that maybe she was grateful for being brought to Soul Society with him today.

She couldn't think of anyone who she would rather have by her side than he on a day like this.

---

"Ichigo."

"Hnn," he grunted in reply.

They were walking along the river bank at a training ground outside of the Seireitei. She was balancing herself on the edge of the bank, with the boy trailing close behind her. The clouds overhead shielded her and her companion from the blinding summer sun. There was an uncanny difference between today and those many years ago.

"Do you think that…I'm forgiven?" she asked wistfully.

He came to a halt; she followed suit, looking back at him. He gave her a confused look, before brushing his cheek with an open palm, sighing. "You haven't done anything to forgive, dumbass."

Oh, how very wrong he was.

She wanted for his words to be true. She truly wished that today wasn't any particular day, and that it was just a normal day. A normal day where she could share this moment with Ichigo.

"Yeah," she absently murmured, eyes concentrated on the nearby shrubbery.

But it wasn't.

Today was the day, those many years ago, that she had killed someone.

Kaien-dono.

But she wanted to believe that maybe this year could be different from all those other years. This year could be the one that she would learn to move on. Maybe this year, she could be selfish for herself, and try to live on.

'_Would you like that, Kaien-dono?_'

"So, who's this Kaien-dono guy that you keep muttering about?" Ichigo asked, voice gruff. She didn't have to turn around to know what kind of look would be on his face. His brows would probably be creased into an apathetic frown, eyes looking away from her.

This time, it was her turn to pause. She contemplated her answer carefully.

"Kaien-dono. He was killed this day, many, many years ago," she explained vaguely, staring out at the horizon.

His frown became undone with surprise, an understanding glint forming in his amber eyes. Ichigo opened his mouth as if he wanted to say that he was sorry about this "Kaien-dono's death," but seconds later he closed his mouth in silence. She noticed that his somewhat lighthearted expression scrunched up into one of disappointment. It had a tinge of…jealousy in the mix?

"Why? Jealous?" she challenged, smirking.

She took a perverse pleasure at the flustered state of his reaction.

"N-no!" he shot back lamely, cheeks flushing ever so slightly.

She continued to smirk.

"I'm not! Okay!?" he cried out, exasperated. "Jeez, freaking egotistical bitch." He skulked off by himself, muttering profanities incessantly.

Another easy smirk started to form on her lips, as she began to walk towards the boy; she stopped, rooted to the spot, horrified at how effortlessly she was smiling today. Was she allowed to be this happy today? What right did she have to enjoy herself with this boy, when she had killed _him_? She continued to stare at the boy who was stomping towards the clouded horizon.

'_I am sorry, Kaien-dono._'

When the clouds overhead parted to reveal the sun that was starting to slowly settle upon the blood red horizon, she knew what she was going to do.

She picked up her legs, running after him at a faster pace. "Oi! Ichigo!"

She was going to chase after her happiness now.

---

Thank you for reading through part two of three!  
Feel free to leave any constructive criticism that you feel that you may have. Thank you for reading!


	4. Is This Truly Where the Heart Lies?

Title: Is This Truly Where the Heart Lies?  
By: **windxalchemist**

Word Count: 766  
Rating: K  
Category: Fanfiction

Part 3 of my IchiRuki Comm entry.

Entry No. 3 Promises.  
---  
When Rukia stopped running, he reckoned that this meant that they had reached their long awaited destination, and to tell the truth, he was rather disappointed. It wasn't as though he'd expected anything grandiose, but as far as the eye could see, it was just miles and miles of rolling hills and trees.

Slightly annoyed, he slumped over, hands propping him up at the knees. He gasped for air until he decided to fall back onto the long grass underneath him; the sudden run had knocked the wind out of his lungs.

"Rukia, the hell are we?" he finally asked after a moment's pause, staring at the clear blue sky.

When she didn't answer for a while, he decided that it was a lost cause. He closed his eyes, his brow furrowing unconsciously.

"You know, he brought me here. This is the first training ground that I'd ever been to."

There was no need to ask who "_he_" was, all he had to do was look at her eyes to see that they were focused elsewhere, looking past the trees and grass; they were peering straight into the past that she had experienced here.

'_I want to be like Kaien.'_ He found himself thinking that often.

He wanted to be the one that she would think back onto whenever she walked through a certain place. He wanted to be the man that she had so recklessly loved enough to follow to the lair of death itself.

"You know, he said, to never die alone, and that you always have to leave your heart with your nakama before dying," she said wistfully, taking a seat next to him.

He stared intently at her. She seemed to believe those words so deeply.

'_I wanted to be like Kaien.'_

_He truly did want to be like the man._

He just turned away and gave a snort. Ichigo could feel her eyes questioning him, asking the strawberry for his reasoning behind the rude noise that had erupted from his throat.

"What's the good in dying, regardless of leaving your heart and all that?"

Rukia gave a delicate frown at his reaction, disgruntled by his blatant cheek of a dead man whom he, even now, felt a constant rivalry with.

'_I wanted to.'_

_Somone whom she'd be content to love, even without any return of her feelings._

This time, it was her turn to snort indignantly, and she would add a long roll of her eyes to dramatize the effect. He knew that Rukia wouldn't hesitate to add in an obscene hand gesture or a good slap either.

"What's so special about those words anyways?" he asked, casting aside the meaning of her words easily. "They don't mean a whole lot to me if it means that someone could die at peace after hearing them."

'_But now.'_

_When he saw that look of pain on her face at every mention of the long departed soul, he decided…_

She'd forgotten how his naïveté still lived on inside of him, even after all these years.

'I'd rather not lose anyone," he said, falling onto his back once more. "Especially not you."

'_Rukia deserves better.'_

_If all **he** was able to bring to Rukia was pain, then…_

Ichigo didn't bother opening his eyes, he knew her expression would be one of surprise; after all, he had thrown her off. Still, he felt a twinge of guilt, afraid that he'd injured her with his callous attitude towards Kaien's words.

'_Because being Kaien isn't good enough.'_

He didn't want to be the reason why she had that look in her eyes.

'_I won't die like him. I'll be better than him.'_

He felt the grass shift as the rustle of the weeds indicated that she'd lie down next to him. They shared a long moment of silence between them, the kind of silence that was strictly theirs.

"Oi."

"Hm," she gave a noncommittal response.

"You know I don't believe in all that, 'Leaving your heart here' shit, so, can you promise me something?" he said gruffly, eyes trailing elsewhere.

"What?" she continued with her ambiguous answers.

"That you'll always let me have your back."

She remained silent; he was sure that Rukia was about to reject his promise to her with her own two cents about how he was being naïve and that he still yet had grow up. He opened an eye to see what exactly the hesitation was about.

When he saw her face, Ichigo decided that he'd thrown one too many surprises at her; Rukia was sitting up.

"Promise?" he asked nonetheless, in earnest in spite of himself.

Her expression softened before a smile inched its way around her lips.

"Idiot, you're the one that's promising, not me," she scorned.

And all he could do was smile back.

---

Thank you for reading through part three of my entry to the IchiRuki fanworks contest! I am so honored that you would read through the whole thing, and I hope that it'll meet to everyone's tastes.

Next chapter:

"Could I...have a hell moth?"


	5. I

Title: I…  
Pairing: Kurosaki Ichigo/Kuchiki Rukia  
Warnings: Possible spoilers up until the beginning of the SS-Arc  
Disclaimer: Kubo Tite seems to own Ichigo, Rukia, and my soul.

* * *

"Ow…OW!" he screams loudly, voice hoarse.

She slaps weakly at his upper arm, it's the closest appendage she can reach, and she has already used so much reiatsu; there isn't much left in her tonight.

"Stop screaming! You should know by now that any wounds you receive as a konpaku will stay with you when you return to your body."

He thinks that that's a real sucky ass way to console someone. Rukia's giving him an almost reproachful look, but Ichigo sees something else in the mix. "But you always healed them before."

He recognizes the look now. It's…

"I am sorry," she says softly. "I used too much reiatsu while mending the hole in your chest."

Guilt.

Ichigo feels his own guilt beginning to uproot itself within. He decides that Rukia shouldn't ever wear a sad face, and in doing so, he vows to never be the cause of it. If he did, it would be almost like…

"Hey."

She gives a quiet grunt of reply, clearly annoyed at something. What that is, he doesn't either.

"Thanks. A lot." He tells her; one could barely hear his voice through the pitter patter of the rain.

She looks at him, surprised. The corners of his mouth have a shadow of an upturn. Her eyes widen in panic. In response to what? What was she…?

She clenches her eyelids shut, breaking the gaze. She tosses bandages at him brusquely. "Fix yourself, fool!" she berates, standing up.

Her knees feel weak and she nearly collapses. Ichigo's hands steady her, and suddenly she's alarmed, flustered, and embarrassed all at once. But she finds herself unable to say anything of consequence, so she coughs into her fist and walks away.

. . .

When they take on a rather nasty hollow the next week, he's not the only one to sustain injuries. She finds that her reiatsu isn't increasing. In fact, it's almost…

"Ack!" he hisses quietly, returning to his body.

She whips around immediately. "Are you-?"

"I'm fine," he affirms, not meeting her eyes.

Frowning, she walks up to him, and she wordlessly reaches up to heal the slice on his cheek. He catches on rather quickly, crushing her fingers within his own.

"It's okay!" he assures, voice gruff. "You probably don't have much power left anyways."

She is taken aback by his words. She knows that he's really arguing against her; she notices the way his brows are furrowed unevenly, the right one deeper than the left. However, it doesn't feel like he's arguing; it feels almost like he is trying to…

Their eyes meet, and he's still holding her fingers to his cheek; his fingers, they're so warm. She feels that warmth permeate through her. They're... they're…

She looks away and wriggles her hand out his much larger one. He abruptly lets go out of embarrassment. She isn't sure where to look, neither is he. Where do you look when you have nowhere else to turn?

He looks into her eyes, he notes how her lips are slightly parted, and she looks into the expanse of amber. Ichigo's eyes, they're so, _so_ sincere. Her breath hitches when he leans down, fingers daring to brush against her face. Panic alarms go off in her head, and she knows that they shouldn't be… she should know better…

She's leaning up on her tippy toes and he's bending down, neck craning. She's unable to breathe properly.

Their lips graze, just barely. That's all it takes to feel the moist warmth of his mouth. Rukia sees the corner of his eyes crinkle in earnest before she closes her own. She hears him draw in a quick breath, lips still pressed against hers, and she's ready to delve into his mouth. She draws up insistently, hand coming to the front of his t-shirt. There's a hand threading through her hair; she feels his mouth slanting over hers fiercely. She's ready, and he's oh so willing…

Reality breaks through when she pushes her other hand against his chest. His t-shirt's digging into the back of his neck uncomfortably; she's pulling on it too hard. He isn't quite sure how to balance himself when she's pushing and pulling on him at the same time.

Through heavily lidded eyes, they look at one another. His eyes are confused and dark with pent up… she knows what; she won't –can't– say. If she were to acknowledge it, then it would become a reality. If it were real, then she knows that she couldn't stop.

His nose brushes against hers and he swears that he can feel her lashes skim against his cheeks. She lets a hand fall limp to her side; the one that was pushing against his chest.

"We should…go," she whispers. He feels her hot breath on his chin.

"Yeah," he agrees reluctantly.

They separate but the air of longing doesn't dissolve.

They were…she was…he was…

They walk home in silence.

* * *

Done for an LJ Challenge at 7snogs.


	6. Bendy Straws

Title: Bendy Straws

Author: Windy

Characters/Pairing: Ichigo, Rukia, IchiRuki, Inoue, Ishida, IshiOri

Rating: T+

Word Count: 2, 327

Warnings/Notes: Implications, kissing, some language, unbeta-ed.

* * *

She would have never executed the plan, had she thought it would fall into motion so poorly. It had seemed perfect in her head, but then again, she supposes that's how all things start out.

. . .

_24 hours 17 minutes and 31 seconds ago. _

_July 14__th__ 10:44 P.M._

"Ichigo."

"Hn." He gives a grunt instead of a full reply. His mouth is drawn up into a tight line as he tackles his school work.

She over looks his dastardly faux pas and treads cautiously into unknown territory.

"Let's go to an Obon festival tomorrow," she suggests, keeping her tone light, trying not to care too much about what his reply may be.

He stops writing. "Why?"

She is _slightly_ annoyed with him and his inability to multitask or pick up a hint. The buffoon had no sensitivity whatsoever; she could vouch for that assertion with no qualms at all. Rukia sighed, feeling an ominous dread approaching her. She should just pretend that she had not said anything and leave his room.

"It is your birthday tomorrow, yes?"

He stops writing once more. "Well yeah, but-"

"Then do not complain when someone else is buying the tickets!" she snaps. She could feel her cheeks starting to heat up; it makes being in the room almost too uncomfortable to bear.

Ichigo looks up at her, turning around in his chair. "Wait," he wears a look of mixed incredulity and confusion. "Is this a d-d-d-" She sees a hint of a blush in his cheeks. Or does she?

"A date?" Oh honestly! Must he say _everything_ aloud? That uncultured swine! "I-I do not know. Call it whatever you wish." Her voice falters a bit from the embarrassment which she did NOT –did not, mind you– feel.

The discomfort in his room is now mutual. This was a stupid, _stupid_ idea. Rukia stands up and says brusquely, "Make sure you are not late, Ichigo!" she thinks her voice was pitched a little too high, but she leaves the train ticket with a large bang on his night stand regardless. She then all but runs out of his room, cheeks and neck burning dangerously.

. . .

_13 hours 03 minutes and 16 seconds ago.  
_

_July 16__th__ 9:58 A.M._

She waits by the front door that morning, ready to leave for the station. She checks her watch. Once. Twice. She chews on her lips and starts an idle rocking motion with her feet, trying to rid of the nervous tremors that went through her arms. The bastard is late. Late.

He's late. She convinces herself that he's late. They sleep in the same bed, so how can he _possibly_ be late?!

"Oi, let's go."

She nearly jumps out of her skin upon hearing his voice behind her. She whips around, ready to tell him off for her scare.

"You're late," she seethes.

His eyes widen a tad, before he resumes his scowl. "Whatever. You're just early."

She lets out a breath of relief as soon as he turns his back to her. She feels at ease with the gentle familiarity of their usual routine. Pushing against boundaries was never her thing. However, she can't help but smile as she watches his backside lead to the train station.

. . .

_11 hours 42 minutes and 07 seconds ago. _

_July 15__th__ 11:19 A.M._

She decides that the train ride there is enjoyable, almost date-like. Only, Ichigo seemed to have a taboo against the whole process of _dating_. In which case, Rukia supposed that it could not actually be a date. Rukia then runs a distressed hand through her fingers; it shouldn't really /matter/ whether or not Ichigo considered it a date. He had chosen to come to Kiyose with her -regardless of the fact that she had very well _coerced_ him into coming- on his birthday; that alone should be special enough.

She sits next to Ichigo; it is like it always is. She glances up at him and their gazes meet. He takes out on of his ear buds and silently offers it to her. Rukia isn't sure whether or not she wants to accept the ear bud, but she does so anyways; she has heard that it is something young couples do. She's not really sure if she considers them to be a "young couple" when she's positive that she's old enough to be…

Rukia doesn't let her thoughts linger on that migraine-inducing fact when she finds that not _all_ of his music fails to be adequate. She leans back against the cushion of the seat and smiles in contentment.

"It's nice."

He breaks off from reading and replies, "Well, I guess, but it's kind of cold in here." He looks around for a bit before he lets his attention revert back to his book.

Rukia has the urge to slap his forehead, but instead she raises a brow, annoyed. "I meant the music, not the weather, you buffoon!" She feels waves of embarrassment and panic start to wash over her once more.

He doesn't take kindly to her derision, and he opens his mouth, ready to hurl at her some half-hearted insult. She rolls her eyes when he closes his mouth. She supposes that's how things have always gone on between them. He just leans back as well. She doesn't quite understand his logic. Then again, she supposes that she never will.

. . .

_9 hours 24 minutes and 43 seconds ago. _

_July 15__th__ 1:37 P.M._

This is bad, bad. Very, _very_ bad. There is _no_ way that this could be happening. She feels so very stupid and like she is about to get sick right here on the train station platform. Rukia wants the Earth to open up right under her and swallow her whole.

"There's not a festival here?"

"There's one in Kodaira and Tachikawa, but none here I'm afraid." The man hands Ichigo a directory of the city.

She knew that she shouldn't have even _thought_ about planning anything special. She should have never asked. Rukia takes a deep breath, trying to calm down her grated nerves. She was a Kuchiki, and Kuchiki's do _not_ panic. They always have their situation fully under control. And when they don't, they improvise.

That's when Rukia remembers that she's adopted.

"So there _isn't_ an Obon festival here?" she asks. Her palms are sweating.

"That seems to be the case," he answers, scratching the back of his neck.

They sit on the bench for a time, trying to decide their next course of action. She genuinely believes that her experience in Hueco Mundo is like having afternoon tea at the Kuchiki Manor compared to this. He's frowning, staring at the downtown streetlights. She wishes that he would talk, and then she could apologize, or do _something_.

"Ichigo, I-"

"Do you wanna go see a movie? Or maybe go to the mall?"

They did not have enough money for a fare to Kiyose and back to Karakura, so they had no choice but to wait around for the train back.

"Hm?" she surprised at his lack of a usual reaction.

"Or do you want to go to a bookstore? I think it says that there's an ice rink around here somewhere, and I don't think you've gone ice skating before. If you want, we can eat."

Rukia sees Ichigo wiping his palms against hi jeans unconsciously while he speaks, then he scratches his head. His frown is intact, but he reads the town directory too closely to be considered casual. It occurs to her that he's nervous as well. She stops the grin from spreading across her face and answers his question.

"Let's go eat, I'm hungry." She offers an apologetic smile.

He looks a little relieved, and he nods before standing up. "Yeah, me too."

. . .

_0 hours 29 minutes and 57 seconds ago. _

_July 15__th__ 10:32 P.M._

They play jan-ken-pon to see who's going to buy the ramune. The loser has to make a trip to the nearest mini-mart which was at least 400 meters away. Naturally, Ichigo lost. Naturally, Rukia gloated.

He tells her in his stupidly overprotective manner that he's not leaving her alone at the station. She defiantly responds with a toss of her hair that she _is_ in fact capable of dealing with such human threats like muggers and kidnappers if she so chooses.

Ichigo looks uneasy about it, but consents to her haughty proposition. It's not like he has a choice in the matter anyways. She will not let him continue his overbearing protection over her.

"Make sure you get the bendy straws, Ichigo!" she calls out smugly after him.

. . .

_0 hours 4 minutes and 19 seconds ago. _

_July 15__th__ 10:57 P.M._

"Here," he says, tossing the black bag onto her lap.

She finds that he bought two bottles and a small package of bendy straws. With a small hand she places the two bottles between them on the bench and opens the package of straws.

"Why did you buy a whole package?" she asks, twisting the marble of her drink. She still delights at how she has mastered the technique of popping it out.

"Because they didn't have 'bendy' straws for free, idiot," he retorts, brows furrowing.

It strikes her that he had spent time and effort into buying the selection of straws that she wished for him to, and she feels almost ashamed.

Sticking a straw into his drink, she hands him the blue bottle. He takes it wordlessly and leans back against the pillar behind her.

"Well! Then you should have just taken the free ones!" she says abruptly, minutes too late for it to actually be a smart comeback. "You do not always have to do what I say! Only when it is extremely important…and you," she searched for unnecessary words to blot out the awkwardness of having to say the important ones. She was never one to communicate well orally. "You should not use money so wastefully! You earn a living to buy important things, not bendy straws."

Ichigo looks genuinely surprised, and he sips on his straw some more. "Che. Like I ever listen to you."

Arrogant bastard.

. . .

_0 hours 2 minutes and 38 seconds ago. _

_July 15__th__ 10:59 P.M._

Kuchiki Rukia didn't apologize. Kurosaki Ichigo didn't accept apologies. This works both ways she supposes.

"Ichigo," she says suddenly.

"Hn," he grunts, but today, his eyes drift towards her.

"I'm," she looks down at the ground, stirring her straw. She looks back up at him. "I'm sorry."

Rukia gauges his reaction before she speaks again. "Tomorrow, we can do whatever you wish. Or you can do whatever you wish without me." She stares at the loose thread of his shirt. "…although it would not really be your birthday, but you didn't not get to spend today-"

"Hey, it's okay," he says, rubbing his neck again. "I have other birthdays."

"Uh…aa, but you only have one birthday every year."

He holds out his hand. She stares at it questioningly. He cocks a brow expectantly. Her eyes narrow.

"What?" she snaps.

"Don't I get a birthday present or anything?" he asks.

She blinks, not having through of that. The train tickets had emptied her savings of human money.

"You moron! Taking you to the festival was going to be my present!" she bites out. "If you wanted something then you should have asked-"

He smothers her with a kiss right then, but Rukia doesn't complain. She doubts that Ichigo's complaining either.

. . .

_0 hours 0 minutes and 0 seconds ago. _

_July 15__th__ 11:01 P.M._

He pushes against her, and she grapples at his hair. Tilting her head to the side, she slides her tongue across the seam of his mouth. She pulls at his lower lip with teeth, eliciting a gasp from his lips.

She pulls away. He's not very happy about it.

"What?" he very nearly snarls.

"Happy birthday," she says between gasps.

He rolls his eyes, brow furrowing deeper. "Shut up," he growls, pressing his lips to hers once more.

* * *

Author's indulgence:

Q: Where _did_ Rukia get the idea to go to Obon festival?

A: Inoue.

"Who told you that there was a festival here anyways?" he asks.

"Inoue," she answers, setting down her chopsticks to explain.

_They were in her and Ichigo's apartment kitchen drinking coffee when it happened. It was a normal Wednesday morning that the two friends share._

"_What's the matter, Kuchiki-san?"_

_Rukia slumped back into her seat very uncharacteristically. She fingered the rim of her mug silently._

"_I have no idea what to do for Ichigo's birthday," she confessed._

_Orihime tapped her chin thoughtfully, a pretty frown on her face._

"_Well, Kuchiki-san, last year…" she then trailed off, mind far /far/ away from the kitchen._

"_What?" she asked, eyes lighting up. _

"_Last year, Uryuu and I went to -- and we went to a…" she paused, trying not so subtly to be subtle. "A festival," Inoue finally said. Her face reflected what was sure to be the results of a good time._

"_A festival?" she leaned forward. Oh, like Tanabata or an Obon festival!_

"_Oh, yes!" the younger woman's reaction was enthusiastic. "We had a /very/ good time!"_

"_Thanks, Inoue!" she exclaimed, grateful that her friend had solved her problems for her so easily. _

_They continued their chatter on the Ice Queen of the Planet Xergatron and her knight Sir Zorkberger of Andromeda._

* * *

Omake 1.

They were walking towards an American place for dinner within the city. He could see the bright English letter not 20 meters away. He hooked his thumbs over his jean pockets when he saw a large neon sign pointing to a … motel of sorts.

_The Festival_.

His neck burned, and he felt it travel up to the tips of his ears. He grabbed Rukia hand, walking faster.

"Ichigo, what-"

"Let's cross the street here," he quickly replies. "I'll take you to the sushi bar near the station."

Suddenly, the idea of having sushi across the other side of town feels very appealing.


	7. Calloused Hands

**Title:** Calloused Hands

**Characters/Pairings:** Ichigo, Rukia, IchiRuki  
**Rating:** … R? XD Not really R…more like PG-13…but Nina wanted R…so I'll label it R? |DDDD

**Word Count:** 286

**Notes/etc:** This is the first of the fulfilled prompts for my 26 prompts challenge. Come request something if you'd like~

* * *

He kisses her hands with purpose.

The trace of his lips across her knuckles is not an idle action. Nor is the nip of teeth at the pad of her thumb. Ichigo presses open mouthed kisses into her palm, tongue darting out occasionally.

He looks up at her silently; chin resting on the flat plane of her stomach. She peers down at him with questioning eyes.

"What are you doing?" she asks. The scathing edge that he knew would be in her voice is worn down by sleep.

Smiling, he chooses to ignore her question as he resumes his work. He takes her right hand, her _sword_ hand, and holds it up against the moonlight. There are strange cuts and scars all along the back, and there are chips in her knuckles (_from punching his arm too often_, he'd say). Opening the palm of her _tiny, tiny _hand reveals an array of familiar calluses.

There's one along the base of her thumb, and another on her middle finger. There's no doubt that she's a fighter, and a strong one at that. Closing his eyes, he grips her wrist, before running his teeth against the base of her palm. Hearing the sharp intake of air, he licks her palm, up her middle finger and then sucks on the tip.

Ichigo is all too pleased with the gasp she elicits.

"What do you want?" she asks, raising a brow.

He brings himself up, face level with hers. A grin spreads across his face.

"You know what I want."

Rukia rolls her eyes (_Pig_, she mutters) before she fists his hair, crashing her lips to his.

He shivers at the feeling of her callused fingertips tracing down his body.


End file.
